Tin Man - ::POTD::
My work is identity
The axe in my hand
No blisters to bother me
As for years I just stand
The weeds and the flowers
Call me back down to earth
The brown rust confuses
Destroys my self-worth
The tears and the rain
Have frozen me here
It could be forever
At least that is my fear
But then I hear singing
And love with a twirl
There's something of beauty
This dog and this girl
She stops to acknowledge
Where my work is so stale
I am rescued completely
My Dorothy Gale
We converse, no lips moving
I creak and I groan
She talks of a journey
To get herself home
I determine to help her
As she's helping me
We walk and we talk
It feels good to be free
It's strange but I know that
She strives for the best
I feel something beating
Once again in my chest
Not sure where we're going
When this journey will end
But I feel like I love her
This newly found friend
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